Courtyard House: Home Alone

Meanwhile, behind the Citibank on the Bund in Shanghai, Lin Yifan stood at the window on the third floor of a hotel. His mental energy surged forth like a tide, taking in the terrain, defenses, and personnel movements within a radius of several miles.

The Japanese barracks on Yangshupu Road, the warehouses at Huishan Wharf, and the "Izumo" on the Huangpu River—these coordinates wove a net in his mind, and at the center of the net was the very spot where he was standing at that moment.

The sky finally darkened.

Lin Yifan took out a set of black night clothes from his spatial storage and put them on. He then took out his watch and checked the time: 7:15.

He put the watch back in his storage space and opened the window. The drop from the third floor was nothing to him; he used his lightness skill to jump down without even stirring up the dust on the ground.

Shanghai at night has a different look. Neon lights light up one after another in the former concession area, and the signs of "Citibank", "HSBC" and "King Yau Bank" illuminate the Bund as if it were daytime.

Lin Yifan had already used his mental power to check the guards inside and outside the banks, as well as the situation in the vaults. His first target tonight was several island nation banks. National hatred was one thing, but the main reason was that the wealth they had plundered in their vaults was far more than that of the Western robbers.

This is all the hard-earned money of the Chinese people; how can it be allowed to fall into the hands of those robbers? With a thought, Lin Yifan instantly teleported to the 'Kim Jong Bank'.

In the duty room on the first floor, there was a squad of Japanese soldiers. Their weapon configuration consisted of ten Type 38 rifles, one light machine gun, and two Mauser C96 pistols. At this moment, the light machine gun was propped up on the table in the duty room, while the Japanese soldiers sat together chatting and boasting.

As Lin Yifan appeared at the door of the duty room, bullets from his spatial storage were also fired, "thud thud thud!" The sound of bullets piercing skulls rang out.

Before the dozen or so Japanese soldiers could even utter a cry of alarm, they all collapsed onto the table, their warm blood dripping down the edge and staining the cement floor with a dark hue.

Lin Yifan didn't even glance at it; his mental energy had already locked onto the location of the underground vault. In a flash, he appeared inside the vault, protected by multiple security doors.

Even though Lin Yifan was mentally prepared, the sight inside the vault still made him gasp. In the center of the vault was a large hall of about fifty or sixty square meters, with boxes of gold bars neatly stacked, gleaming coldly under the dim, explosion-proof lights.

There are six private rooms around the main hall. The first room is filled with a small mountain of Japanese yen banknotes, which is roughly estimated to be worth hundreds of millions.

The second compartment contained several rows of sandalwood boxes neatly stacked. Penetrating the box walls with my spiritual energy, I found them filled with jewelry, antiques, and calligraphy and paintings—presumably "gifts" from traitors or the ill-gotten gains plundered directly from the occupied territories.

The next compartment contained legal tender and banknotes from various countries. In the last compartment, molten gold bars were neatly stacked, estimated to weigh more than twenty tons.

"Okay, very good."

Lin Yifan's lips curled slightly upwards, but there was no smile in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, the entire vault was emptied, leaving not even the empty wooden boxes that had contained the gold bars.

A mental scan of the spatial warehouse revealed that the newly acquired wealth had doubled compared to the previous gains in Tianjin and Beijing.

He retreated the way he came, the body in the guard room still warm. Lin Yifan casually put the light machine gun and several Type 38 rifles into his spatial storage; these weapons would come in handy later.

The second target was "Mitsui Bank," which was just across an alley from Kimjong Bank. Lin Yifan ignored the four armed sentries outside the door and teleported directly into the bank.

Lin Yifan's mental power had already detected that an entire squad of Japanese soldiers was stationed in this three-story building, and there were two hidden sentry posts on both sides of the basement corridor, where two Type 91 machine guns were concealed.

"Careful indeed." He sneered, his figure appearing like a ghost in an archive room piled high with ledgers. The sound of leather boots clattering in the corridor outside came from two patrolling soldiers.

Lin Yifan held his breath and pressed himself against the wall, waiting for the footsteps to fade away before pushing open the door. His mental energy surged out like a tide, and the defenses of the entire building became clearer in his eyes—there were eight sentries in the lobby on the first floor, soldiers' and officers' dormitories on the east side of the second floor, communications room on the west side, and the bank manager's office and bedroom on the third floor.

The entrance to the basement vault was behind the kitchen, concealed by a hidden door. The two sentries were positioned directly opposite the staircase leading to the basement.

Lin Yifan didn't rush to make a move. He went to the third floor first. The door to the bank manager's office was ajar, and heavy snoring could be heard from inside.

Pushing open the door, I saw a short, stout Japanese man fast asleep, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, slumped over a mahogany desk.

On the wall hung a portrait of the Emperor and a banner that read "May your military fortune last forever." Inside the safe, besides several classified documents, were two pistols and a small box of gold bars.

"Yamamoto Taro, manager of Mitsui Bank's Shanghai branch." Lin Yifan glanced at the business card on the table and casually took the contents of the safe.

He initially intended to kill the fat pig with one stroke, but then he thought that it might be more interesting to keep the expression on his face when he discovered the vault had been robbed tomorrow.

With a thought, he first arrived behind two hidden sentries. Simultaneously, he activated his mind, and the two machine gunners and two ammunition handlers in the basement sentries felt a numbness in the back of their heads and collapsed limply.

The staircase behind the hidden door was deep and narrow, with kerosene lamps hanging on the walls to protect against moisture. Lin Yifan descended the steps, his footsteps almost entirely absorbed by the thick carpet.

The iron door to the underground vault was even thicker than that of the Kim Jong Bank, and a Western-imported alarm device was installed next to the door. If it was forcibly opened, the electric bells of the entire building would ring loudly.

"Interesting." A cold glint appeared on Lin Yifan's face. With a thought, he instantly teleported into the vault.

Even though he was prepared, Lin Yifan's pupils contracted slightly the moment he entered the vault. This place was more than three times the size of the Kim Jong Bank.

The gold bars weren't packed in boxes, but stacked directly into walls, so brightly lit they were almost blinding. Japanese yen, fiat currency, US dollars, and British pounds were neatly categorized and piled up in different areas.

At the deepest part, there is a secret room containing hundreds of boxes of bronzes, porcelains, and rare ancient books, each of which is priceless.

"The Eight-Nation Alliance, the Boxer Indemnity, the Twenty-One Demands..." Lin Yifan scanned the artifacts one by one, his fingertips trembling slightly. These national treasures, which should have been displayed in the Forbidden City and the Summer Palace, were now relegated to the basement of a foreign bank, alongside gold and silver and other mundane objects.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his rage. With a series of sweeping gestures, the vault emptied at a visible speed. The artifacts were collected separately in a corner, wrapped in layers of soft silk—they would one day return to their rightful place with dignity.